Justice
by ComputerSherpa
Summary: The tale of Gazer-Beam. Who is Gazer-Beam? What does he fight for? incomplete
1. Relocated

#define disclaimer.h "I will make no money from this story. I do not own The Incredibles or any character or symbol associated therewith. If I did, I would be writing a sequel instead of a fanfic. I do, however, own the character of eGirl, including but not limited to the right to move her between universes as I see fit. I leave for the reader the right to enjoy this story to the maximum of his or her ability."

#include disclaimer.h  
&title"**Justice: The Tale of Gazer-Beam**"  
&author"ComputerSherpa"

:begin

The locator in my visor is beeping more stridently now. I'm getting close—the goons who thought they could rob this jewelry store while most of the other Supers were occupied are about to discover how sorely mistaken they were. I swing around a lightpole and drop down in front of two thugs. They point their weapons at me—cheap Uzi subs—and I burn them out of their hands. They shriek, drop the guns, and turn to run, just as eGirl steps out of an alley and shocks them both into unconsciousness. I nod at her in thanks, and look across the street to where a black Ford is screeching away from the curb—the getaway car, three panicked thugs inside. I look at the rear tires, and a pair of converging laser beams streak out and strike them—first one, then the other—just as the car begins to move; the tires pop instantly and the car grinds to a stop. I leap over and slag the locks; the criminals will be trapped inside their own car until the cops arrive to pick 'em up.

The crisis has been averted, and my visor isn't showing any other unhandled calls for help just yet. eGirl walks over and we high-five. "Impeccable timing as always, E."

"You too, Gaze. Never late for showing up to someone else's mission."

I smile. "Hey, what can I say—we both know how lonely you'd get without me."

"Later, laser-brain."

I vault up onto the roof of the store and survey the Municiberg skyline. Signs of combat are visible everywhere if one looks for them—the occasional boom echoing from downtown, the muted rat-a-tat of machinegun fire from the freeway. Large cities like this never run out of criminals, Super and otherwise—there's always a schmuck who thinks he can beat the odds. Some of them do, but the vast majority go to jail. Most amateur criminals disappeared years ago—the chances of getting caught for ripping off some trivial item were just too high. The baddies we Supers pick up today are either other Supers gone bad or career criminals who've learned to fight back.

I breathe in the cool evening air. My visor beeps as the Mission Tracking System reports another robbery in progress, but it's halfway across town and I'm getting hungry. Some other Super will pick it up—I'm getting something to eat.

* * *

Maybe if I'd known that was the last night I could use my powers, I would have picked up that robbery. The next day the Super laws went into effect. I'd heard about Incredible getting sued, of course, and the subsequent string of lawsuits and debate over the legality of Supers fighting crime, but I never thought Congress would have the gall to pass a law so obviously detrimental to public safety. Did they think, by getting rid of the solution, that the problem would go away too? The month after the Super Relocation Program went into effect, crime rates spiked a hundred and forty percent. Eventually they dropped back down to something resembling pre-Super levels as law enforcement compensated, but the law was wasting the ideal crime-fighting resource, never mind what it did to the Supers to have their talents suppressed. Do you know what it does to a man to be able to help—to be able to solve problems instantly, on a whim—and instead watch helplessly as Evil prevails because others fear your power? 

Some Supers couldn't handle it. Reports flickered through the news of former crime fighters being actually mowed down by SWAT teams as they tried to make one last heroic stand. I was almost one of those. After saving the lives of an entire building full of people by vaporizing a terrorist van I was publicly rebuked, forced to issue an apology for ruffling the public feathers with my existence, and exiled from Municiberg, my home for most of my life. I managed to hold it in after that and only occasionally would salesmen have to sprint away from my house dodging laser blasts. I spent my time as a professional weapons instructor and as an advocate for Supers; many knew I was a former Super, but no-one cared much as long as I behaved. Not much happened out where I lived, and I allowed myself to gradually forget more and more of the good old days, when Super powers were a force for Good and not something to be covered up, ashamed.

_

* * *

twelve years later  
_  
I pulled into my driveway and opened the door of my car. Tonight had been a successful evening; my talk at City Hall on the effectiveness of Supers had gone over well, and I had made a few allies. I grabbed the mail from its box on my way inside and dropped it on the kitchen table. My cat Proton greeted me; I rubbed her ears and refilled her bowl. My laptop was on the table; I flipped it open and pulled up my email. Nothing of interest, but the activity set my Chat status to Active, and an IM popped up on my screen.

ShockerChick43: Hey GB  
Wavelength650: You shouldn't call me that  
ShockerChick43: It's who u are  
ShockerChick43: Don't forget that  
Wavelength650: I'd rather not think about that  
ShockerChick43: I thought u were fighting  
ShockerChick43: to bring the Supers back  
Wavelength650: I am  
Wavelength650: but I can't be GB any more  
Wavelength650: not yet  
Wavelength650: can we talk about something else?  
ShockerChick43: Sure, whatever  
Wavelength650: what are you up to?  
ShockerChick43: Slacking off at work :P  
ShockerChick43: my shift's almost over  
Wavelength650: Bad girl :P  
Wavelength650: plans for tonight?  
ShockerChick43: Not really  
ShockerChick43: What, are you suggesting something? ;)  
Wavelength650: I've got spaghetti and a fresh DVD  
ShockerChick43: Hang on a minute

There was a long pause. I stood up and got the spaghetti out of the refrigerator. eGirl, better known as Melissa Levy, and I had been friends even before the Super laws went into effect, and had remained so after. Neither of us had made a move to push the relationship further, and we were both content to remain in a perpetually affectionate, semi-dating state. An electrical outlet next to the kitchen door sparked once, then glowed as a flood of energy poured through it and eGirl transmitted herself into my kitchen. The ability to travel through electrical grids and computer networks was not to be taken lightly; while eGirl could hold her own in a firefight, her primary strength lay in computer hacking and electrical manipulation. For one thing, it saved on gas. "Hey, almost ready," I said after she finished materializing. I opened the lid of the cold pot of spaghetti and scooped portions into two bowls.

"Good to see you too," she replied as I placed the bowls and some silverware on trays and painted the food with a microwave beam. Steam began to rise from both bowls, and I handed her a tray and walked into the living room. "So what movie we watching?"

"Finding Nemo," I replied, sitting back on the couch. "A classic."

There was silence for a moment as I queued up the DVD. As the opening credits rolled, eGirl said softly, "Do you really believe you're not Gazer-Beam anymore?"

I sighed. "I'm Simon Paladino. I'm a weapons instructor, fighting so Gazer-Beam and the other Supers can fight again. Can live again."

Melissa didn't seem entirely satisfied but remained silent. _Not exactly the fight I expected when I found out I had Super powers._

* * *

Author's Notes: 

This is my first fanfic. We'll see how it goes. Reviews please! :-)

I try to include as much authentic information in my stories as possible, and when I can't do that I try to make up something hidden and clever. Props to the first one to figure out where I got GB's chat nickname from.

More to come! Look forward to your reviews.  
--ComputerSherpa


	2. Renewed

#include disclaimer.h  
&title"**Justice: The Tale of Gazer-Beam**"  
&author"ComputerSherpa"  
&chapter.2

:begin

I flop down on the couch with a sigh. The movie is over and Melissa has disappeared through a phone jack. The movie was excellent—Pixar never fails to please—but I spent much of it wondering how to go about turning public opinion on the Supers. Supers were generally associated with chaos and destruction, even though it was our jobs to save and rescue. You never saw a Super unless something was going wrong, and that had a profound psychological effect. Maybe the Supers needed to be seen doing something positive, like building a school or a dam. _Yeah, right—Supers as construction workers. Tradewind and Frozone will really go for that. How demeaning. _

I pry myself off the couch and go into the kitchen for a snack. A Pop-Tart comes out of its wrapper and is heated on its way to my mouth. I hate cold food. As I munch on the Pop-Tart I shuffle with one hand through the mail on the table—electric bill, junk, junk, NetFlix bill, a letter from Grandma, and a FedEx package. Woo, FedEx! What was it I ordered again?

I rip open the package to find…a metal slab the size of a manila envelope. _What the…?_ It's got a large LCD screen and a round trackpad at the bottom edge. Handling it carefully, I check the edges and back for a power button. There is none—the entire unit is perfectly smooth and unmarked except for the front. Definitely not a Tablet PC, and too big to be a Palm or Pocket PC. I flip it over again and am reaching for the control on the front when I notice a glowing circle and the words "HOLD STILL" in a small font on the screen. _It's turned on?_ I gaze intently at the screen—something seems to be happening…

Then light beams out from the device and it starts scanning my face. "MATCH: GAZER-BEAM" it intones in a mechanical voice. I drop it on the table in surprise—_Security breach—no-one but eGirl has said that name for years—it knows my name—it knows who I am—_and it twirls a beam of light around the room. "AREA. SECURE. COMMENCE. MESSAGE."

The screen changes to show the image of a young woman in a lab somewhere. "Hello, Gazer-Beam. My name is Mirage. We know who you are; don't worry, your secret is safe with us. Pay attention, for this message is classified and will not be repeated. I represent a top-secret area of the government specializing in robots and…" The message switches to a multimedia presentation depicting a large, spherical robot, outlining details and specifications. The woman drones on about this robot, bragging about its complexity and how much money her company spent on it, as I frantically wonder _How did they find me? Those lazy government suits couldn't secure the inside of a steel box! Am I going to have to move again?_ I hear random fragments such as "respond within twenty-four hours" and "payment will be three times your current annual salary" before Mirage closes with "The Supers aren't gone, Gazer-Beam. You're still here! You can still do great things! Or," she pauses, "you can go back to City Hall and continue bickering with politicians." _They've been spying on me…_

A card pops out of the underside, from a slot I hadn't noticed. It has Mirage's name on it and a phone number. I pick it up, and notice the ink is holographic. "Mirage, eh?"

"THIS. MESSAGE. WILL. SELF-DESTRUCT"

I duck under the table as the tablet explodes with a bang. I stand back up, coughing at the smoke, and notice a scorch mark on the tablecloth where the tablet had been lying. "Aw, man, that was a good tablecloth too—"

An electronic screech sounds as the smoke alarm on the ceiling goes off. I instantly grab my laptop and the mail on the table and duck into the hall as sprinklers deploy throughout the house. I rush outside, not wanting to get any more water into the circuitry than necessary. "Well, that is just awesome," I murmur, a mixture of sarcasm and incredulous surprise in my voice. I set my stuff down and go back inside, hunting for the fire reset switch.

* * *

Hours later, I am excited, almost pacing. I haven't been this excited since the Flash drive blowout at Fry's three months ago. It took very little thought for me to decide I would accept Mirage's offer. I know I couldn't live with myself, wondering for the rest of my life what might have happened on this mission. Danger to life and limb? Happened every day in the good ol' days, and it still does to some extent, working with rookies on the firing range. And Mirage promised big bucks in her spiel, which helps a lot. Yeah, I'm going for sure—the question is how? 

I'm gonna have to get out of work, but that shouldn't be too much of a problem. And let people know I'll be out of town for a few days. The first step is to call Mirage. I pick up the phone and dial the number. It rings once, then I hear some crackling and a few electronic tones as Mirage picks up. "Hello, Gazer-Beam. Are you in?"

"I'm in."

"Excellent. We'll send a car for you at 8:00 tomorrow morning. Good to have you on board, Gazer-Beam."

"Thank you. See you then."

Mirage disconnects with a click. _All right!_ I do a small victory dance around the living room. _Boo-yeah! The Gazer-Beam is on the job again!_ Then I press TALK on the phone twice and dial the number of a friend of mine. A quick reminder of the time I "forgot" to tell the boss about Hank's shameful lapse in safety procedure is all it takes to get him to cover my shift tomorrow morning. That incident has been good for three shifts already; I'll see if I can push it to five, then save his rear again. Tuesday is my day off, and I should be back by Wednesday. I quickly change the message on my phone and type up a vacation response for my email. _This is an automatic response. Sorry, I'm off saving the world until Wednesday—I'll try to get back to you then._ The best part is they'll all think I'm kidding. I lock the doors, turn off the lights, set my alarm clock, and hop in bed. Tomorrow I get to be a hero again.

* * *

To my most excellent reviewers: Glad you like it! :D If Syndrome appears in this fic at all, it will be much later in the story. I'll see if I can work him in, but if he doesn't fit, he doesn't fit. I'll try to update again soon—keep those reviews coming!

And just now I went to do some (cough) research at my local theater, so I've got an update for the previous chapter and some authentic details to work in here and there. Stay tuned! Chapter 3 is underway!

--ComputerSherpa


	3. Red Letter Day

#include disclaimer.h  
&title"**Justice: The Tale of Gazer-Beam**"  
&author"ComputerSherpa"

:begin

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

I moan, turn over and slap the alarm. Another day calls. I lay in bed wondering what rookie will embarrass himself at the firing range today—

—and then my eyes widen and I stiffen in bed as I realize I'm not going to work today—today is Get-To-Be-A-Super-Again day. I jump to my feet and power-walk to the kitchen. I start to hum as I pour myself a bowl of Lucky Charms and grab a Krispy Kreme from the fridge. _7:02 AM and I'm wide awake. That's gotta be a first._ I open my laptop and scan the morning's headlines. _Unrest in the Middle East, unrest on Capitol Hill, prices are going up, Evil rearing its head in all-new ways and places—thanks for the update._ I check my mail—Melissa has written me an encouraging note saying she's noticed I've been down lately and I should perk up. I have a job, I have a house and car, and I have superpowers others can only dream of, even if I can't use them in public. Besides, the fight for Supers is going well, she says—some of the younger politicians are starting to wonder if banning Supers was the right thing to do, thanks in part to my efforts. I smile. _Girl, you have no idea just how perked up I am right now. Things must be going well if companies are willing to hire us on the sly._ I finish breakfast, instruct my laptop to perform a full backup, and head into the bathroom. I press my hand against a colored tile and while pulling down on a towel hanging from a hook. The door closes and locks, and a section of wall folds inward to reveal my equipment room. It's been a while since I was back here, but all the gear is functional. I strip down and put on my Super Suit. The body, including the belt, is made of strengthened Mega-Mesh, courtesy of Edna Mode. The boots are an advanced polymer, lightweight but strong, and styled into a swept-back look. The helmet, though, is my own design. I slip it onto my head. The Cyclops-like visor authenticates with my brainwaves and powers on, enhancing my hearing and vision. The helmet is a combination PDA, sensor system, electromagnetic focuser, tactical awareness system, and Heads-Up Display—all while keeping my brain safe and looking cool to boot. I stretch and perform a system checkup—it's been a while—and finally snap on twin grappling hooks to my arms. I am now primed for action.

I look in the lower-left corner of my vision and a digital clock pops up. 0740—20 minutes left. I leave and lock my equipment room, return to the kitchen, and make some toast—spitting laser fire at bad guys takes energy, and I have a feeling I'll be doing a fair amount of that today. As I eat, I run through the various functions of my helmet—the tech it uses was cutting-edge, secret, and highly experimental 15 years ago, which means that the bugs are all worked out today but it doesn't have some of the technologies that would be available were I to redesign it right now, such as external motion tracking and direct brainwave control. The HUD styling is kind of retro, too—I'll fix that first chance I get. This visor is controlled through an optic link—it tracks where my eyes are looking and notices when I'm looking at part of the HUD. The optic link also helps it enhance my vision and laser output.

When I'm full, I check the clock again. 0755. I put my civilian clothes on over my suit. The helmet I remove and put into my briefcase, along with my laptop and its power, Ethernet, and phone cords—I intend to do some research on the way. _Laptop, suit, helmet, me—I'm all set._ I stride out the front door just as a black limo pulls up in front of my driveway.

I walk to the car and the door opens. I enter the spacious interior, sit down, and realize the car has no driver. A mechanical voice remarkably similar to that of the message tablet I received intones "WELCOME. THIS. IS. YOUR. AUTOMATED. CHAFFEUR. PROCEEDING. TO. HELIPAD. E T A. TWENTY. THREE. MINUTES. WOULD YOU. LIKE SOMETHING. TO. DRINK?"

"Hmm… Whaddya got?"

A panel slides open and a veritable forest of drink selection buttons curves into place around me. There's gotta be at least forty options—I touch the control for Mountain Dew Code Red and the panel gracefully slides away. A miniature pedestal pops up in front of me with the promised beverage in an aluminum can; I remove the can, pop the top, and drink deeply. "Ah. Man, that's good." Not only am I as a Super being hired, I'm practically being wined and dined. Not many places stock alternate flavors of Mountain Dew—whoever my new employer is, she's on a generous budget.

The ride to the helipad is uneventful. When I see my destination arriving, I remove my civilian clothing, place it in my briefcase, and don my helmet. When we arrive, I find not a helicopter but a VTOL (Vertical Take-Off/Landing) jet waiting on the helipad—a big one. "Very nice."

"Thank you," says Mirage as she steps out of the jet. _Wow._ I suppress a wolf whistle as I climb in and sit opposite her. Mirage is slender, even willowy, with silvery hair and expressive eyes that make you want to like her. I stow my briefcase next to my seat, and a floating stasis field accepts my opened drink. "Well," I say, "you've certainly got my envy as far as tech level is concerned."

Mirage smiles. "My organization carries out top-level scientific research. This has certain… advantages where comfort is concerned."

The computerized voice—the same as the one from the limo—speaks. "CURRENTLY. DEPARTING. FOR. NOMANISAN. ISLAND. FLIGHT CONDITIONS: EXCELLENT. E T A. 3. HOURS. 14. MINUTES."

"Nomanisan? Interesting name…" I murmur. _Nomanisan… Nomanisan… Nomani-san… Noman Isan… "_No-man-is-an Island! Oh, that's clever…"

Mirage smiles again. "I'm here to brief you on the robot you'll be facing." _Oh. Guess I won't need my laptop. Silly me._ "The Omnidroid 8000," she continues, "is a top-level battle robot my group is designing. It is powered by—"

I stop her. "Wait a second. Battle robot? What is this for?"

"It's a prototype of a design that will be sent in advance of ground troops to soften up resistance. It can also be tasked with specific targets, such as destroying vehicles and structures."

"So this is a US Military project. Fascinating. I didn't know the Army was pursuing this area of research."

"You may have read, Mr. Gazer-Beam, about smaller robots the Army is developing, such as minesweepers and recon planes. This is a large step forward in that direction."

"Ah. Continue."

A hologram appears in the air between us, outlining the robot's specifications. "The Omnidroid has self-sustaining EM-Flux power, a variety of built-in sensors and gyroscopes for the purpose of orienting itself relative to the outside world, five electromagnetically controlled arms, nearly-impenetrable armor plating, and semi-sentient AI. This last is the reason you are here: the AI went rogue 18 hours ago."

I smirk. "Got tired of taking orders? Somebody balance the command ratios wrong?"

"We're still not sure. At any rate, the Omnidroid is now roaming the island and is refusing our commands. We've had to evacuate to ensure the safety of our personnel." The Omnidroid schematic is replaced by an overview of Nomanisan Island, a very nice-looking place with a presumably-inactive volcanic cauldron rising from the center. "Its cloaking devices make it difficult to track, but we're pretty sure it's on the southern half of the island. The AI has also taken control of most of the island's defenses, the sole exception being the antiaircraft missiles, as those require a set of codes to launch, which the AI has not yet acquired."

"You're going to air-drop me?" _This should be fun._

"Yes. One other thing: The robot, obviously, represents a significant investment and millions of taxpayer dollars."

"Ah, so you want me to kill the thing while doing as little damage to it as possible. I love a challenge."

She smiles again. "Any questions?"

"One: what interface is used to give the Omnidroid commands?"

"A wireless transceiver wired into its main computer. It can't turn off the transceiver, though it can choose to ignore static and apparently any command it doesn't like."

I nod. "I should bring my laptop. If I can't overpower it, maybe I can fool it."

Mirage shrugs. "Your choice, Gazer-Beam. Are you ready to begin?"

I stand. "Indeed I am. Let's get this party started."

* * *

Moments later, I am secure within a small capsule, about to be blasted out the back of a jet like a watermelon seed. My outfit is in place, my laptop is strapped to the inside of the pod, and I am ready to knock this robot on the head. 

Mirage speaks to me through the intercom. "One last thing: The Omnidroid AI has highly adaptive learning protocols. The longer you spend with it, the better it will adapt to your fighting style and the lower your chances of success."

I give her a thumbs up. "Gazer-Beam is on the job. Don't worry about a thing."

She mashes a button with her palm, and the plane is abruptly gone. A small, heavily-reinforced window gives me a view of the ground coming up. _Seven…six…five…four…three…_

* * *

Author's Note: W00t, 1:46 AM and it's done. Not an actiony chapter, but necessary, and, I hope, fairly interesting. The next one will be more fun. I wanted you guys to have something to read over Christmas/Christmas Eve, as I'll probably be busy today and tomorrow for reasons I'm sure you can guess at. :-) I'll try to keep the chapters coming without undue delay. Keep in mind, though, that takes up to 24 hours to fully update itself, so there's a bit of a delay between when I post and when you can read it. This also means that corrections I make take a while to show up—I went to re-watch The Incredibles on the evening of 12/21, and made a number of fixes to the first chapter (including the name of the Super Relocation Program and Gazer-Beam's real name) at that time; they didn't show up for a while, though, due to the cursed 24-hour delay. 

I'm so glad to have so many positive reviewers! You guys keep the story going. I'll have the next chapter ready as soon as I can. In the meantime, Merry Christmas.


	4. Round I

#include disclaimer.h  
&title"**Justice: The Tale of Gazer-Beam**"  
&author"ComputerSherpa"  
&chapter.4

:begin

The capsule opens with a creak, and I climb out and stand atop it. _Woo, nothing like blasting yourself out of the back of a perfectly good plane to start your day._ I shake my head to clear it and perform a 360-degree survey of my surroundings. The island has a lush, almost rainforest-like climate—very green. My eyes, with some help from my visor, cycle through the spectrum: Visible, infrared, microwave, radio, back up to x-rays, down through ultraviolet, and back to visible again, the world a twisting collection of colors and greys as my eyes absorb the various frequencies of light. No sign of the robot. I drop back down into the pod, unclip my laptop from its holster in the pod wall, and flip it open. The battery is at full, and the power supply is already plugged into the pod's power system. I open a window and access Nomanisan's sensor system. The robot couldn't have missed my entrance—a self-powered meteor falling from the sky has a way of registering on sensors—so it's either on its way here or waiting for me to come to it. Yup, there it is—lurking about a klick and a half to the south. Moving, but not much, and not in my direction. I shut the lid and hop out of the pod, landing on the spongy earth. The bot thinks to ambush me—what it wasn't expecting was a tech-savvy opponent. This is going to be fun.

* * *

A short run later, I find myself sneaking up on the Omnidroid. It's exactly as Mirage's tech specs showed: round, five legs with big claws on the end, armored, with a triangular eye popped out of the top. It's gazing intently in the direction of my pod, obviously expecting me to approach from that direction. Not very bright. I fire the grappler from my left arm, embedding it into the tree next to me with a _thunk_, and fire the right one into a tree across the clearing. The line whistles just above the Omnidroid's field of view. I stand on top of a rock, take a deep breath, and begin quickly retracting the right as I extend the left. The result is that I shoot across the clearing, stopping directly in front of the Omnidroid. "Hi there!" One kick later the eye module is flying across the clearing. The robot strikes blind with two arms; the other three are currently being used to stand on. I leap backwards and detach both grapplers. They shoot toward me; I whip my arms forward and they drag across the surface of the bot, whiplashing it. No effect. By now the bot has extended a second eye from its underside, targeted me, and sent Arm #1 snaking towards me. I dodge, but it corrects, grabs me, and flings me across the clearing. I feel a momentary flying sensation before I meet the overwhelming hardness of a tree. _Ow._ I slide down, shake my head, and get up— 

—and the bot is already there. _Holy smokes, this thing is fast!_ It grabs me and slams me into the ground, then strikes again just as I roll out of the way. I jump to my feet and look it in the eye, and a burning laser fries its optical receptors. The bot is now blind. "Boo-yeah! How do you like me now?"

It grabs me and throws me a hundred yards into the forest. _Not very much, apparently._ The thing can obviously still hear quite well. I look around for a weapon—I'm gonna need some leverage…

I hear a rumbling sound and look up to see the Omnidroid rolling directly towards me at a very high speed. A grappler zip-line and a nearby tree save me, until the bot severs the tree near the base. I zip-line to another tree, and the bot launches itself through the air, all five arms extended. I zip once more, just ahead of the robot, and freeze.

The Omnidroid snaps the tree on impact, but lands on its feet and swivels around, looking for me through its blindness. I don't move. I barely breathe. Despite the burned-out optical sensor, the bot has its lower eye-pod down. That must be where the microphones are located. The pod rotates slowly. The only sounds are ambient jungle noise. The bot takes a slow step forward—it looks as if it's trying to tiptoe, somewhat unsuccessfully, since every step it makes with those massive claws crushes bushes and snaps twigs. The upper two arms reach out and wave slowly, blindly, searching for me. Clearly stealth tactics are not in this bot's programming.

All at once, the arms retract and the sensor module pops back in. With a rumble, the Omnidroid rolls away through the forest and disappears over a ridge.

I climb cautiously down from my tree, feeling my newly-acquired bruises. The robot does not reappear. _Looks like it's gone, all right._ First round: Draw. I need a plan.

* * *

I drop down inside my arrival pod with a groan and open my laptop. _Too bad I don't have proper wireless in this helmet, or I wouldn't have needed to make this trip._ My helmet was frequently used for receiving tracking signals on bad guys and missions in the glory days, but I never needed it to transmit anything. All I need to do is set up a webcast… 

Done. The topographical map of Nomanisan is now being broadcast live to my helmet, with a glowing dot at the Omnidroid's location. I pull it up in my HUD with a smile. The robot is circling around the large volcano in the center of the island. _Perfect. I'm gonna burn this thing.  
_

* * *

Author's Note: All right, my loyal readers, here's Chapter 4 for your perusal and pleasure. A little on the short side—sorry about that. Hope you had a wonderful Christmas with your loved ones! I'm looking forward to your reviews, as always. 

--ComputerSherpa


	5. Round II

#include disclaimer.h  
&title"**Justice: The Tale of Gazer-Beam**"  
&author"ComputerSherpa"  
&chapter.5

:begin

I linger at the entrance to one of the volcano's many caves. Although the applications of my laser powers are diverse, heat resistance is not one of them. The Mega-Mesh of my oldish suit, while it is not likely to burst into flame, will not provide much protection either. It is quite probable that the robot has greater heat-resistance than I do. _I really hope this isn't a bad idea…_

I cautiously step inside, braving the heat, and look around, preparing my attack. _You only get the element of surprise once. Per battle, anyway. Let's make it count._ The cave has a hundred-yard-long beach of black rock bordering a river of magma. _Judging by the way that rock is glowing red, that magma is pretty darn hot. Ought to be enough to melt the robot into slag._ I recall with a pang Mirage's desire for the robot to remain relatively intact, but this was the only way I can think of to subdue the robot. The island has lots of cliffs, but to all appearances the Omnidroid will survive almost any drop—the legs make good shock absorbers, and the round shell seems certainly sturdy enough. Physical strength isn't my specialty, I don't have any manipulative skills to speak of, there's no way I can punch a laser through the robot's armor, and an army of hackers have failed to infiltrate the AI-controlled robot. It's a shame, but it's the only way.

I look around and select my hiding place. I made plenty of noise on the way here, so the robot should know I'm here. If I can avoid passing out from heatstroke for a few more minutes, I can beat this bot.

Ah, here it comes. Stealthy as always, the Omnidroid is rumbling toward the cave, smashing plants and small animals as it rolls. It ends the roll as it enters the cave and snaps to its upright position. Supported by three of its five legs, the Omnidroid extends its lower sensor-pod and emits a loud squeal. Immediately, it turns toward me and takes a stab at the problem, metaphorically speaking. _Interesting. It's figured out sonar. _I flip backwards, and the robot approaches further and swings again. "Strike two!" The robot locks onto the sound of my voice and jumps forward, landing exactly where I was a half second ago. I'm hanging by a grappler, suspended in classic oh-no-I'm-over-a-pool-of-molten-lava pose. "STRIKE THREE! YER OUT!!"

The robot leaps once more. I swing out of the way, and the Omnidroid lands feet-first in the lava. "Boo-yeah! Burn and die, villainous beast!"

Except…the robot's not melting. Its legs are turning red, but it's not dead yet. I cover my mouth with one hand and retract my grappler with the other, shooting toward the cave ceiling. I fire the most powerful laser I can muster, as a last hope—the blast, almost six inches in diameter, impacts the bot's armor and leaves a black scorch mark. That's all. The robot, meanwhile, has figured out that standing in lava is a bad thing and waded onto the shore, where it begins to cool. _Crap. That didn't work at all._

The robot is now standing patiently on shore. It knows where I am and that it can't reach me. It also knows that I'm being subjected to the full heat of the lava pools below and that it is not. So the robot waits.

I don't have that option. I have to get out of here NOW, or I'm likely to spontaneously combust. I do a quick infrared scan of the cave—almost all of it is white, but some whites are brighter than others. The lava the Omnidroid stepped in was relatively cool because it was so close to shore, though it would still have killed me instantly; I have to get the robot into something deeper.

I stick my left-hand grappler to the ceiling next to the right-hand one, and it digs in. I instruct the right-hand one to detach, and the tiny grabbers on its front release the volcanic rock. I am now hanging by my left arm. I repeat this process—quickly—"walking" across the ceiling by my hands until I reach a deep pool of lava near the back of the cave. It is really, really hot out here. I check—sure enough, the Omnidroid has been following me along the beach. With the clanking of my grapplers, I'm not hard to track.

As luck would have it, there is a big lever made of pumice or something jutting out over the lava pool. It is resting on a black rock platform, elevated above the beach. I swing back, then forwards and drop onto the end of the lever. It shifts slightly, but bears my weight. About five-eighths of the lever is on the rock—the rest is over the pool. Plenty for me, but if the Omnidroid tries to stand here it'll tip. The robot emits another screech and leaps up onto the platform. It's cautious—it knows something's going on. _Come on, big fella. Come 'ere._ The robot edges onto the lever as it creeps toward me—

"COME ON, YA STUPID SATCHEL OF SERVOS!"

The robot jumps—but not far enough. With a crash, the Omnidroid leaps to the edge of the platform and lashes out at me. The lever does not tip. I fire my grappler behind me and swing away over the pool of magma—the robot pings again and the claw fills up my field of vision—I see it coming, and calmly think how much I like cold places—

And the Omnidroid erupts with sparks as electricity shoots through it. Blue arcs zip from core to claw as systems overload and shut down. I can almost see the shock in its eye as sparks burst from every part of it, and the claw falls, powerless, and hangs from the ledge.

eGirl steps from behind the dead robot and lowers her hands. "Hey, Gazer. Does this volcano have a garbage chute or can we leave this big boy here?"


	6. Regrouping

#include disclaimer.h  
&title"**Justice: The Tale of Gazer-Beam**"  
&author"ComputerSherpa"  
&chapter.6

:begin

"E? Wha? Toohotlet'sgooutside," I pant, swinging down to the cave entrance and staggering into the cool air outside. She nonchalantly follows me, watching as I lean up against a tree and catch my breath. I think there is actually steam rising from my suit. A few moments later, I gasp out "What… in the heck… are you doing here?"

She grins. "Stowed away on your laptop. After I got home I wrote you an email saying you didn't know how good you had it. Said you should perk up, have some fun. Looks like you took my advice—this wasn't really what I had in mind, though."

"What…can I say…once-in-a-lifetime opportunity…and all that…"

"Mmm hmm. Anyway, I got your auto-reply—'Sorry, I'm off saving the world, back soon' or something like that—and figured something was up. You left it plugged in, so I made myself at home. Your filing system is very nice, by the way—very organized, in contrast to your sock drawer. I like the way you file stuff by frequency of access."

I am momentarily speechless, so I just say "Thanks." eGirl watches me catch my breath with an amused expression; she is enjoying this moment, no question. It's been a while since I saw her wear her super-suit—hers is unique, one of the few not produced by Edna Mode. Most suits are fairly simple—colors, straight lines, the occasional logo. eGirl uses instead a pattern of overlapping squares in various shades of blue. The pattern covers her whole body except for her wrists and ankles, which fade to white to match her gloves and boots. The outfit is completed by a set of white streaks which run vertically and glow in the dark. Edna had just about had a kitten when she saw it; said it didn't fit the laws of style, or something like that. eGirl didn't care—it was unique and difficult to forget. And it's made of the same Mega-Mesh as all the other suits, so it has the same features. eGirl sported a cape near the beginning, as I recall, but lost it after only a few weeks—she said it was chewed off by a virus. I believe it.

My suit, on the other hand, _is_ made by Ednaworks. Designed to match the helmet, my suit is teal with yellow highlights on my wrists, shoulders, and calves. The Gazer-Beam logo on my helmet is duplicated in grey-on-black on my belt buckle. A fairly standard outfit, but it has flair, it's mine, and I like it a lot. _To think it just about got melted to slag at the bottom of a lava pool…_

After a moment, I find I have enough breath to walk again, so I proceed in the direction of the launch pod, my home away from home. The robot has been neutralized, so I expect to hear from Mirage sometime soon. eGirl walks ahead, doing impressions of me hanging over a lava pool and yelling "Ooh! Scary robot! Somebody help me, I'm afraid!"

En route to the pod, I discover a small stream and promptly jump in. _Aaah, coolness. _eGirl purses her lips as she watches me splash around, then shrieks as I splash her. "Aaaugh! Cut that out!" Instead of retaliating, she takes cover behind a rock. I finally get out, dripping with the cool water. _That is **so** the last time I'm going inside a volcano. Ah, water._ She leaves the rock and jumps the stream, not seeing the small amount of water I conceal in my hand.

_Flick, SPLASH. "_Ahhh! Knock it off, Gaze! You know I don't like water!"

"Oh, come on, when was the last time you went swimming?"

"Zip it. I have something important to show you."

* * *

eGirl climbs into the pod, which is now on its side. "While you were jousting with the Metal Marble, I was exploring the Nomanisan network. Take a look at this." She flips open my laptop and her fingers dance across the keys. My eyes narrow just a micron—I'm quite protective of my laptop and if this was anyone else they'd be extinguishing their hair right now. eGirl is a friend, however. Would have been nice if she'd asked permission, but she did just save my life. 

A window pops open with a map of Nomanisan. "I've seen this. What about it?"

"Have you looked closely? Look at the structures here: you've got command center, robotics labs, cafeteria, and all the normal stuff—but look at the one marked Gymnasium. Have you ever seen a cylindrical gymnasium 700 feet high?"

I furrowed my brow. "That can't be right. Must be mislabeled."

"That's not a gym, that's a missile silo! And why do the 'personnel quarters' have these little lockers outside each room? Looks more like a barracks to me. What about this huge room with a control panel and this rounded thing inside? Why is that marked "storage", with no elevators or transit devices of any kind near it? These people are hiding something, Gazer."

"I'm going to assume for the moment that there's a good reason for these curious errors. In the meantime, we need to report back to Mirage with a Mission Accomplished. No reason we can't do a little looking around on the way."

"I betcha these people are terrorists. I betcha this robot is classified as a Weapon of Mass Destruction. Do you have a cell phone? 'Cause I'm calling the White House."

I roll my eyes and set out towards the nearest arm of the base. "E, the difference between this robot and a WMD is that WMDs are sneaky. This robot was anything but sneaky. And you never know when you've gotten all of the WMDs, whereas you can know when a robot is dead."

* * *

01010100  
01100001  
01101100  
01111001  
01101110  
00100000  
01101001  
01110011  
00100000  
01100011  
01101111  
01101111  
01101100 

#sysboot;  
diagnostics.start(full);  
Power.reactor::OFFLINE;  
Power.batteryfeed::start();  
Arm(1,2,3,4,5)::OPERATIONAL;

AI::ONLINE;

Power.reactor::RESTART;

vengeance

* * *

Author's Note: Ah, vacation. Sorry about the wait for an update. Alas, this chapter is on the slow side—the next one will be better. Got some character-development in, at least. 

Hope all of you had a wonderful holiday season with your friends and loved ones. Until next time,

ComputerSherpa


	7. Redshift

Author's Notes:

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I really appreciate the encouragement.

To Talyn: Thanks! :D I'm glad you like eGirl—she gets some prime time in this chapter. And in response to your question: Years of playing the Myst series have taught me that _everything_ has a meaning. Google for a binary translator.

Onward with the story!

#include disclaimer.h  
&title"**Justice: The Tale of Gazer-Beam**"  
&author"ComputerSherpa"  
&chapter.7

:begin

"Cover me," eGirl said as she placed her hand over the electrical outlet. "I'll be back soon." A blue glow of sparks and arcing contact points was seen as her hand faded into the Electroverse; an elated expression on her face, she uploaded herself into the grid. Her body turned translucent as it became less physical, though no less real; it stretched toward the transfer point, and finally, with a soft _snap_, she was gone.

Gazer-Beam sat, his back to the wall, and scanned the forest. At the rate eGirl usually completed business, this shouldn't take long.

* * *

eGirl howled with elation as she expanded in a dozen directions through the Nomanisan grid. She hadn't been in a computer network of this size and speed in years. She felt the rush of information and accelerated her consciousness to computer speed.

First things first. eGirl bounced from one circuit to another as she made a mental map of Nomanisan's intranet. Planes and polygons, bits and bytes whirled past her as she flew through Cyberspace. A half-dozen vortexes opened around her as she entered a router; she chose one and shot through it, tunneling into the island's main computer.

The computer core was primarily concerned with routine tasks—opening doors, managing security, running an Air Traffic Control program and communicating with various devices and systems strewn about the island. Data streams and processes crisscrossed its interior like a gigantic moving game of Pick-Up Sticks. eGirl delved through subdirectories until she found the Users folder, which had only three Administrator-level entries: Mirage, the twig-like chick Gazer had encountered; Administrator, obviously whoever had set up the network; and a third entry, which bore the curious name of Syndrome.

Intrigued, she opened the folder and was greeted by a password prompt. She pulled a translucent band from her virtual suit and placed it over the Password field; the password cracker, coded into the fabric of her Super suit, took over and began a dictionary attack. She decelerated her mind to make the wait go faster, and microseconds later the utility reported "password not found in the Merriam-Webster dictionary." She applied several more dictionaries—Occupational Jargon, World Atlas, and Lord of the Rings—before the Star Trek dictionary reported that Syndrome's password was Kronos, an alternate spelling of Q'onoS, the name of the Klingon homeworld.

The password box vanished, and she accessed Syndrome's files, her long hair floating in the ether as she worked. The first folder, "Island Management", held quite a lot of data, very little of it interesting. She scrolled through progress reports and construction contracts at hyperspeed, stopping on a map of the island. The geography was exactly the same as the one Gazer-Beam had been given, but the labels were different. "Gymnasium" was now "Launch tower". "Personnel quarters" was now "Barracks", as she'd expected. And the "Storage" room she'd pointed out now bore the name "Containment unit". This was unquestionably fishy.

eGirl pulled a square from her suit and placed it over the map. The square grew in size and took on the image of the file she'd placed it on, with a small icon in the lower-right corner to indicate its filetype. She replaced the square on her shoulder, and it turned yellow and shrank to join its cousins. _Evidence._

Backing out of the Island Management folder, she selected the next one. "Personnel" held nearly a hundred entries—all no-account mercenaries. She opened the third folder, marked "Supers".

The face of Universal Man stared up at her. U-Man had disappeared under suspicious circumstances nearly three years ago. What was he doing in this island file? The word **TERMINATED** appeared in big bold letters across his handsome visage. Next to his photo was a stylized outline of the Omnidroid, marked "omnidroid x1". She smirked. _Uni was always an arrogant jerk. Probably got called in for the same job as Gazer-Beam and couldn't handle it. Universal indeed._

A wave of her hand, and the file slid out of sight, to be replaced by another. Psycwave, also "terminated". She frowned. Psycwave hadn't been the most powerful of Supers, but his powers were certainly nothing to sneeze at. Probably the fact that his opponent was mechanical, not biological, had been his undoing. How often did this stupid robot get loose, anyway? She viewed the next entry.

Everseer. Terminated. Next. Phylange. Terminated. _What?!_ Blazestone. Terminated. Downburst… had terminated the Omnidroid. She breathed a sigh of relief just before a new robot, the Omnidroid X2, appeared. Downburst: **TERMINATED.**

Horror crept into her eyes as she continued the litany. _He's training it,_ she realized. _He's training the robot to be unbeatable. As each Super dies, their abilities and tactics are added to the database, until the Omnidroid can defeat any Super alive. _Hyper-Shock: **TERMINATED.** Apogee: **TERMINATED.** Blitzerman, Tradewind, Vectress—all had fought. Some had won, only to be rewarded with death through a new opponent, customized to their weaknesses. These had been good friends—good people. Good Supers. Lured to an island in the middle of nowhere and bushwhacked for the purpose of training a weapon.

_I have to tell Gazer-Beam._

eGirl grabbed the entire folder, copied it, and stored it on the back of her neck. Then she backed out to Syndrome's main menu… and paused. There was still one more folder, marked "Kronos Project". _He made his password the same as the name of his project? Shame, shame!_ Then a random memory floated to the surface: The Evil Code, item nineteen. "All passwords must be guessable in six tries or less." A shudder shook her as she realized that she was dealing with a true force of evil.

She opened the folder. An autoplay file clamored for her attention, so she opened it. It was a PowerPoint presentation with four slides.

The first slide showed a large, spherical robot being placed into a rocket.

The second slide showed the rocket traveling through the air.

The third slide showed a city being destroyed.

The fourth slide showed a countdown field, with the text "COUNTDOWN NOT IN PROGRESS" and "AWAITING FINAL CONFIRMATION" below.

_He's gonna use it._

eGirl made a copy of the Kronos folder, compressed it, and stored it on her chest, just below her neck. Looking around to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything, she backed out of Syndrome's documents folder, and it snapped shut behind her. She turned slightly and opened Mirage's folder.

PASSWORD REQUIRED. She tried every dictionary attack in her arsenal, but after 20 minutes of codebreaking the password was not found. Mirage was either more smart or less evil than Syndrome. _Very well, we'll try the direct approach._ eGirl pulled a strip from her forearm and applied it to the password field. The Brute-Force attack would try every possible combination of letters; if that failed, numbers and symbols would be added to the mix. The downside to the attack was how long it took…

…and the higher probability of getting caught. The password box glowed slightly, then blasted the attack program away. eGirl caught the strip before it flew off into the void and replaced it on her arm as the computer's ambient color shifted from a peaceful cyan to battlefield red. A klaxon began to sound, and in the distance she could see security and antiviral programs resolving into existence from their component bits.

_Busted. Time to be going now. _eGirl flew out of the directory structure, circled the computer core once, and shot through a data port in the direction of Nomanisan's communications center.

All of it was locked down tight. With the alert active, there was no way to send a message to the mainland. eGirl returned to the Main Computer Core—

—and was greeted by a security program. "Target located," it said in an electronic voice, and approached her, grapplers ready. eGirl grabbed a document from the information streaking past and flung it like a shuriken, slicing the program neatly in half. It decompiled with a flash, spitting an error message out on a terminal somewhere.

She looked around. Other security programs had answered the cry of their comrade and were beginning to swarm her. She righted herself, then dove into the computer core's main output port. Programs, files, and data packets flashed by like cars on a freeway, and soon she was lost to her pursuers.

This was getting her nowhere. She'd gotten what she needed—now it was time to leave. She altered her trajectory through the flood of information, arriving at the island's main power system. Infiltrating through the power grid was an extremely unusual tactic, and power systems usually had relatively low security—apparently, though, some wizardly technician had noticed her point of entry. All the power, phone, and Ethernet outlets in the base had been shut off.

That was bad. She couldn't exit Cyberspace without using an outlet of some sort. And Cyberspace was becoming an increasingly hostile place—every CPU cycle that went by brought more security and antivirus programs scurrying to attack. A thought struck her, and she raced toward the eastern edge of the base, where Gazer-Beam waited for her.


	8. Revenge

Author's Notes: Okay, this chapter is short. I promised myself I'd never give you guys a chapter shorter than 1000 words, because I think none too highly of people who upload their first chapter of 300 words and call it good. That's an idea. Come back when you have a story. Still, this chapter stands as a unit and I can't bring myself to stretch it. Plus the last chapter was nearly 1500 words, and this one _is _a page and a half in Word, so I guess it'll have to do. More GB/eG goodness, coming right up!

Oh, and Talyn, thanks so much for your positive reviews. You made my day. Re-translate the binary code back in chapter 6, I changed it a little.

Edit: Dangit, I just realized this is all supposed to be in first-person. You'd be surprised how easy that is to forget. Now fixed.

#include disclaimer.h  
&title"**Justice: The Tale of Gazer-Beam**"  
&author"ComputerSherpa"  
&chapter.8

:begin

_Fidget_. Somewhere I read that space travel is actually boring—most of it consists of watching the stars go by. Even if that's true, watching the stars has to be more interesting than sitting in one place and watching _nothing._ I pick up a pebble and throw it at a nearby tree. _Thonk._

Out of sheer boredom, I open the island map in my HUD. There I am, a red glowing dot on the eastern edge of Nomanisan Island.

Where's the dot for the Omnidroid, though? It isn't where I left it…probably dropped off sensors when eGirl shocked it to death…

Then I see the dot. Right next to the expanding "broadcasting" circles which mark the location of my pod.

A notation appears in the lower-right corner of the map: SIGNAL LOST—Working Offline

_Son of a…! MY LAPTOP!_

A loudspeaker crackles to life at one corner of the building. eGirl's voice pours forth: "Gazer-Beam! Come in, Gazer-Beam!"

Glad for the evacuation of the base, I raise one arm, fire my grappler, and zip up to a watchtower. I carve myself an entrance and key the mike for the local PA system. "I'm here, E."

"Gazer, I was right about Mirage & Company. This place is seriously bad news. I'll explain fully later, but right now I need to get out of here." There is a pause, and I hear what sounds like an electronic explosion. "These security apps are glomming all over me. I need your help."

"Can't you just use an outlet?"

"They've all been shut off. I can't get out. Do me a favor and unscrew the light bulb above you."

I raise an eyebrow. _ Okay…_ Looking up, I remove the cover and unscrew the bulb. "Done."

"Great. Now I need you to stick your fingers in there."

"What?? You want me to stick my fingers _into the electrical socket?_"

"Gee-bee, I AM GETTING KILLED IN HERE! Stick your fingers in the socket already! It won't hurt. Much. I promise."

I hear another electronic clashing sound. _I don't believe this._ "You are going to seriously owe me for this, E." Gritting my teeth, I reach out with one hand and touch the bare socket…

I feel a buzzing sensation as sparks explode off the light bulb socket and a surge of energy sizzles through my arm and up my neck. I feel the energy wrap itself—no, herself—around my head. Then, abruptly, nothing—

I find myself on my back, staring up at the ceiling. _And now I'm on the floor._ I stand up, slowly. "Did it work?"

"I think so."

The sound seems to come from all around me. "E? Where are you, girl?"

"Right here, keeping you company." The voice seems to come from inside my very being.

"You're in my head? Why are you in my head?"

"You are cursed. CURRRRRRRSED, for a THOUSAND GENERATIONS!" eGirl giggles. "Actually, I'm in your helmet. Not as roomy as I'm used to—cozy place, though." Unbidden, a video feed window appears in my HUD. eGirl smiles and waves.

"Wow. This is like Halo."

"I never liked Cortana," eGirl says. "And don't forget you only have one life."

"Well, glad to see you've made yourself at home. Did I mention that the robot is still alive and coming to kill us?"

"No, you didn't. I should have known we couldn't kill it that easily. I have news for you too, though—did you know that you're not supposed to kill the Omnidroid?"

"Well, yeah. Mirage wanted it to stay intact."

"No, I mean the Omnidroid was supposed to kill _you._"

"What? She left out that detail. What do you mean?"

"You remember Universal Man?"

"That arrogant jerk? Yeah. What about him?"

"Turns out he visited this island too, once upon a time. The Omnidroid killed him. How about Psycwave?"

"Pulled him out of an alley once."

"Him too. Along with Everseer, Phylange, and Blazestone. Downburst came too. He managed to kill the robot. You know what they did? They _built another one. _That one killed him."

I find I am sitting down. "What? What are you saying, E?"

"I'm saying the Omnidroid is a weapon. An anti-Super weapon. Trained, refined, and constantly learning. And if we don't get out of here, it's going to kill you too."

Plaster skids throughout the room as a claw smashes through the wall. It turns and points at me, flexes, and I know I have milliseconds to react. _Fight, or flight--what's it gonna be?_ My laser filters through the smoke as I blast a window, shattering it. Arming my grapplers, I leap through and run for my life.


	9. Intermission

…and my readers' first thought upon loading this chapter is _Gosh, this one is short…_

Well, it's happened. I didn't finish the story by the end of vacation. I now have schoolwork to keep up with and all sorts of other stuff to worry about, so Gazer-Beam isn't on the front burner anymore. He's not on the back burner, though, either—sort of the middle burner, if I may mix a metaphor.

Rest assured, however, this isn't the end. Two days ago I sat down and wrote most of Chapter 9 in a single sitting… and then I sat back and realized this wasn't how I wanted it to end. The last chapter of this story is the most important, and the three pages I'd just written were completely wrong in terms of mood and feeling. The writing is all there, but most of it will have to be scrapped when I finally _do_ write Chapter 9. (It'll be in the Special Features menu on the DVD when Pixar picks up this fic and turns it into _The Incredibles Episode I: The Phantom Robot._)

This is NOT the end of the story. Gazer-Beam will continue, as soon as my muse gets back from touring Antarctica. Sorry about the delay—chapter 9 will be up as soon as I can write it.

ComputerSherpa

(Thanks, Talyn!)


	10. Closing

So. Here we are, five years later. (Yes, this unfinished story is _still bugging me._)

I think it's time to admit that I don't have an ending for this story. I've devoted considerable thought to it, and I can't think of a good way for Gazer-Beam to die that leaves him alone in a cave with a password carved into a wall, in a place that he has no reason to believe anyone will ever find. If he'd had any influence on the main cast of The Incredibles other than going missing and then being discovered (purely by accident) in a forgotten cave with the magic password, things would be different, but unfortunately I don't have a lot to work with here. In retrospect, I should have had a more complete plan before I started this story, but if I'd done that I probably wouldn't have posted the first chapter.

So my apologies to you, my wonderful readers, for leading you on. Sad to say, Gazer-Beam's story doesn't have a good ending. Fortunately for us all, lots of other stories do, and it's my hope that every one of yours will fall into that category.

My sincere thanks for all the views and reviews you all gave this story. Perhaps with the ghost of this story laid to rest, more ideas will come in the future. Peace be with you all.

ComputerSherpa


End file.
